Want
by katielikeswriting
Summary: He wanted her. He needed her. And when Mercurio wanted something, he got it. Elisabeth wanted him, even though she wouldn't admit it. She needed him, even though thinking that made her sick. And yet, no matter how many times she said no, he still wanted her. It could no longer be ignored.


**_Author's Note: Hello! Welcome to my twisted Romeo and Juliet spin-off one-shot! I've created my own little world for this story, with the most notable changes being this fic takes place in the current day, Romeo has a younger sister named Elisabeth, and Benvolio died instead of Mercutio. It also takes place in a small town somewhere in the United States. I __hope you don't hate me for taking so many liberties with Shakespeare's amazing world! This is a smutty fic, just because. Thanks! _  
**

**Elisabeth Montague**

It was a funeral for four people. An entire small town, rocked to the core. We wore black and wept. I lost my brother, mother, friend, and a girl who was, apparently, my sister in law. Juliet had been a popular girl, as well as my enemy, I suppose. She was beautiful, funny, the sort of girl all the boys liked- even my own fucking brother. He had even killed himself so that he wouldn't have to leave her.

My brother was very much liked, and also very much stupid. His friends were just the same. They were the cool kids, spending their days flirting with girls and their nights parting. I, on the other hand, wasn't cool. I didn't party. I was quiet before half my family was dead, but I was silent for eight months after the fact. No one noticed. No one cared about Romeo's little sister.

"Hello Elisabeth."

No one, that is, except the wrong person.

"Leave me alone, Mercutio."

Mercutio had been my brother's best friend. They had done everything together. But Mercutio was a strong guy. He'd bounced back from Romeo's death after just a few months. Mercutio was just like that. He knew how to heal and he knew how to live. He was attractive, and energetic. He was a ball of enthusiasm and happiness. He loved to drink and get girls. It wasn't very hard for Mercutio to get girls. If he set his sights on someone, they fell for him. They gave it eventually.

I was his next target.

"Come on," he laughed, following me as I walked down the path to my front door after going to the library for some reading. "It's been almost two years!" He reminded me. "Are you tired of doing this?"

Yes. The answer was yes. I was tired of pretending like I was okay, as though I got along with the girls from school and I thought my life was close to exciting. I was getting tired of being quiet. I was tired of comparisons, of being ignored any other time. I wanted to say yes, but I couldn't give it to Mercutio.

"No." I answered firmly, spinning on my heel and walking to my front door, longing to enjoy the sunny April day but unable to because of Mercutio. He followed me the whole way, like the bastard he was.

"Go to my party tonight," he suggested, as though I hadn't just turned him down. Conversations with Mercutio were always spastic. He was loud and bold, changing the subject every two seconds without any warning at all. It was captivating to most people- but not me. I found Mercutio to be arrogant, even cruel with the way he treated the woman he had sex with. I knew he was dangerous, and I didn't like it one bit.

"I don't like to party," I answered swiftly, but he persisted, as always.

"Juliet did," Mercutio remarked. He wasn't being cruel, just stating a fact. Juliet had many friends and she spent as much time with them as possible. She never got along with her parents, not really, anyways. She had a maid of some sorts- because the Capulet family was rich and always had been. I think she was lucky, just to have the maid. She was lucky for those friends.

"I'm not Juliet fucking Capulet," I finally snapped. Everyone was always comparing us. We were the same age. We were sisters in law for a day, even though I hadn't known it. But Juliet always came first in these comparisons. She was more beautiful, more popular, whereas I was shy and kept to myself. I hated the comparison, because it haunted me. Juliet haunted me. Then my thoughts were jolted by Mercutio's evil little grin. He leaned it towards me and whispered in a wicked little voice.

"I know you're not. That's why you should go. I'll make sure you don't regret it." It was enough to make me feel near to collapsing. Because although Mercutio was annoying, and rude, and a womanizer by all means- I liked him. It was physical only, but it was enough. Mercutio's little whisper echoed in my ears, soft even though no one was around to hear the conversation we were having- thankfully.

What would I do if anyone knew about this? The dead boy's sister and his best friend would make a great story, wouldn't it? Mercutio was trying so hard with me, and I didn't fully understand why. It was probably a conquest thing. He wanted to be able to say he'd fucked everyone, high school virgins like me included. His best friend's little sister no less- what an asshole!

"Maybe I will go," I whispered back in a shaky voice, "If you're lucky." At my words, Mercutio winked at me, and I had I sudden urge to fuck him on the porch, give in to my feelings and give into the tension. I felt like an awful person, feeling this was about a boy- a man- like him. He was older than me, and more experienced, and surely up too no good. In a twisted sort of way, that made me crave him more. But that would mean letting him win. And I couldn't do that, so the innocence in me was satisfied.

"I don't need luck!" He called out as he turned away and walked down my driveway. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, because I knew he was right.

* * *

**Mercutio Escalus**

I want her so fucking badly I think I'm going to burst. I think such dirty things when I'm around her, but I don't think I can help it. Elisabeth is young- barely 18. She's never even had a boyfriend! But dammit, that just makes me want her more. A glance at her pretty dark blonde hair, stunning gray-green eyes, and I'm done.

I want to fuck her on every flat surface of this house I'm living in alone while I go to school ten minutes away. Not of that make-love bullshit that I'm sure Romeo pulled with Juliet. I want her begging for it, on the floor, against the wall, on the roof for all I care. It makes my head spin. My hands start shaking and I feel like all the air in my lungs has just dissipated. I want her so much and I've been waiting for so long. She won't say no to me. She can't.

"I don't need luck!" I reminded her as I walked away from her house that Friday afternoon, full of both pride and sexual frustration. I heard Elisabeth laugh and waited a moment before turning around to watch her enter her house. Her little paid skirt was riding up a little, and I wasn't sure whether to feel happy or like a pervert. I wasn't used to that feeling. I was 21 years old! When it came to sex, well, I'd had a lot of it. I was used to this. But something about Elizabeth threw me off.

But now, finally, she was going to go to my party. Elisabeth Montague, the girl I'd been trying to sleep with for a full year, would be going to my party. Maybe I could convince her to stay afterwards, to clean up for an hour or something. Then we'd end up fucking- for a really long time. I would fuck her long and hard until she was screaming my name and-

"Hey Mercutio," Hannah Williams giggled, waving from where she sat with her friends eating ice cream. I smiled and waved back, mostly proud I remembered her name. I also tried to ignore the fact she'd ruined my private thoughts about Elisabeth, when all I really wanted to do was go home and wank. "The party's on tonight, right?" She asked me, and I nodded.

"Bring your friends!" I nodded, and the whole group burst into giggles. I said my goodbyes to them and sauntered off. I needed to set up a party, after all. This was going to be a night that would go down in the history books- I could feel it. And this wasn't one of those Romeo feelings, the ones that controlled your life and ruled your world until you found yourself dead on the floor of a tomb with your 16-year-old wife. This was one of _my _feelings, that I would finally have sex with Elisabeth Montague, as long as she showed up.

Four hours later, as the people from my college started coming through the doorway, I still had that feeling. I took a swig of whiskey and greeted all my guests. Music was playing, the drinks were flowing- _And Elisabeth hadn't arrived_. I wanted to punch my fist into a wall or something. I didn't need luck, this just happened for me. But it wasn't happening this time, and that made me want Elisabeth even more.

I knew she wasn't playing hard to get. Elisabeth was a smart girl, but she'd had zero experience with anyone before. She wasn't interested in building the tension, it was just there. Elisabeth wasn't just trying to annoy me. It ran a lot deeper than that. She was trying to uphold her reputation, keep her dignity. I couldn't blame her. Elisabeth was a good girl, but she went unnoticed. Even I hadn't paid her any attention until the funerals. We were always put together- the sister and the friend. Paris had been my cousin, and Elisabeth's mother had been killed, too. We lost a lot that day. Everyone did.

But even after that, Elisabeth didn't get much attention. She withdrew from public school and decided to finish her last two years of high school online. I went to college that fall, but only part time the first semester. The survivors were forgotten, while the legacy of star-crossed lovers remained. I could only imagine Elisabeth's resentment about that.

And now she wasn't coming. It had been all for nothing. She wasn't into the party scene- I should have known it was all too good to be true. But I still wanted her. _Fuck_, I wanted to make her scream and _fuck_, I wanted to take her any way I wanted and _fuck_, I wanted to watch her face when she realized I was the only one who could do that to her. _Fuck _was becoming my favorite word by the time the clock struck midnight. And then I noticed her pretty little face, stepping through the door.

* * *

**Elisabeth Montague**

I wasn't sure what I was doing at Mercutio's party. From the moment I stepped inside, I knew this was not my scene. First of all, the only people I recognized were people I'd known from school in sophomore year before the suicides. There was a strong possibility none of those girls even recognized me, even in a town this small. Even if they did know who I was, that didn't mean I wanted to talk to them. I didn't belong here, with all these people drinking and grinding and doing who knows what else.

"Elisabeth?" a voice called out amongst the chaos. I turned and saw Mercutio, with a devilish smirk on his face and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. "You came," he smiled, wrapping his arm around me- which I quickly shoved off, frowning.

"Yes, I did," I responded with a sigh, "But I'll probably be going now anyways," I mumbled. Mercutio gave me a look, and I shrugged.

"You finally came," he repeated, "You're not going to leave me now," his voice was low and angry. "I can't believe you!" he roared. Mercutio was always loud, whether he be upset or excited, so no one stopping talking to stare at us. For once, his irritating charismatic persona was useful, even if I didn't want to admit that boy- fine; man- was useful for anything.

"I'm sorry, _you_ can't believe _me_?" I responded with equal anger. "You're the one that has been annoying me for the past twelve months trying to get in my pants," and my cheeks burned at my own words, "And now that I'm turning you down for the hundredth time, _now_ it matters?" I bristled with emotion. He was un-fucking-believable, Mercutio Escalus was. And I was getting really sick of it.

"Look, Elisabeth," Mercutio swallowed and looked down, unable to finish the sentence, his fiery attitude gone as quickly as it had appeared, because that was Mercutio and that was what he did. I paused and waiting for him to continue. "I'm glad you're here. So, please, give it a chance?" he suggested. I sighed for what must have been my fifth time since entering the house.

"Fine," I gave in, and that stupid fucking smirk appeared on his lips, the same one he'd had when I first walked in. At this point, I didn't even find it attractive. He made me sick. He was disgusting, and annoying, and not even his perfect, lightly toned body could make up for that, not anymore. I was done. I grabbed a can of beer and sat down next to him at the table, downing it in just seconds. Mercutio whistled.

"Is something wrong, sweetheart?" he teased me. I decided I would play at his little game now. I uncrossed my legs and smoothed out my skirt, watching the look on his face as I undid the top button of my shirt.

"Nothing's wrong; I'm just a little warm," I smiled at him innocently, leaning forwards so that he could see just a little bit of my chest. I felt like a whore, pretending to be something I was not. But the bastard deserved it. I wanted to lead him on and then walk away like he did to all those girls he had sex with and then forgot about by the next morning. This was payback of sorts, so I didn't feel any remorse. "Aren't you?" I asked him politely.

"What?" Mercutio shook his head to clear his thoughts, "Oh! Um, yeah, I guess so," he shrugged. "There's a lot of people here, you know, like, body heat..." he trailed off in a frail voice, and I could almost feel the evil glint in my eyes.

"When will this be over?" I asked him, gulping down my second beer. "And aren't you insanely drunk from that whole bottle?" I asked him. Mercutio appeared to have snapped out of a trance of sorts, and took a moment to answer.

"Well I told everyone it would be a really short get-together and then we're migrating over to some other guy's house," he shrugged, "But I'm staying to... clean up."

"I'll help you," I offered, and his face lit up.

"Why?" he asked him after a beat, squinting as though trying to detect a lie or something. I shrugged but didn't answer. It wasn't as though I had anything better to do with time, after all. I could stay here or sneak home and sleep alone while my father talked to himself in his sleep. My father was near insane at this point. He couldn't function without his wife and son- Romeo had been his pride and joy in a weird sort of way. I couldn't blame him. Romeo had been an overall great person, all things considered. Without him, my father had become a ghost. He couldn't take care of me.

"Well, why not?" I questioned him back. Mercutio grinned, and I managed to smile back.

* * *

**Mercutio Esclalus**

"Well, why not?" Elisabeth asked me with a little smirk. There were a million reasons running through my head. Because I was bad for her, because she was right that I just wanted to get into her pants- she couldn't trust me, let alone stay with me alone in my house. She would fall for my charms the second we were left alone, and then we'd have to go around acting like nothing had happened. That was why she shouldn't stay with me.

Elisabeth was making this all too easy, and it was almost unsettling. I _knew_ she could feel like tension. That whole 'it's hot in here' bullshit wasn't for nothing. She knew I liked her- or that I wanted her, at least. Now she was actually playing hard to get, and it was pissing me off. Well, it also made me imagine her sweating and pleading as I gently rubbed against her, taunting her and explaining it was definitely the body heat to blame.

I was amazing my boner wasn't actually that big, all things considered. Elisabeth was being a tease and she knew it. I was getting a taste of my own medicine, but to be honest, it wasn't helping me at all. It just made me feel more ruthless, needier. I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted Elisabeth Montague in my entire life, and if I didn't fuck her that night I might take a tip from my old friend Romeo and jump off a bridge or something.

At around 1:30 in the morning, there was some yelling and cheering, and suddenly the crowds of people were laughing and dancing down the street on the way to their next house, ready to party for another few hours, until the light of day appeared early the next morning. Elisabeth and I were the only ones who stayed behind. We cleaned up all the trash and mopped the floors and didn't talk much, until we were done cleaning and everything was in the right place. I threw my arm around Elisabeth as we surveyed our work, and this time she didn't push me away like she had the first time around.

"Well, that was nice," Elisabeth smiled sweetly, "But I should go now," she finished, brushing off her skirt. I was about to lose it by that point, and she knew it. She stalked over to my front door and I followed her, not willing to let Elisabeth leave just then.

"Are you sure?" I asked her in a heavy voice. She blinked, and then nodded as I slowly backed her into the wall. "You don't want to stay a little longer?" I suggested, and she whimpered. The noise itself was enough to make me groan. "Stay," I begged Elisabeth, pressing her body slowly into the wall, our bodies rubbing together.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a thin voice, and I smirked. "Why did you want me to stay?"

"Stop asking questions," I commanded, leaning down to whisper in her ear before pressing my lips to hers. With a whimper and a nod, she succumbed, kissing my back with just as much passion. I continued to keep her between my body and the wall, and after a while her hips rose to meet mine, grinding slightly with need.

"Mercutio," she let out a frail whisper, and I smirked, because my fantasy was coming true. She was going to be screaming and pleading soon enough. I sucked on the slightly tanned skin of her neck, leaving a mark, and I could feel her smiling.

"What do you want, princess?" I asked in a seductive voice, and she let out a soft moan. "Do you like it when I call you princess, princess?" I smirked arrogantly, and she curled her fingers around my boxer waistband.

"Stop… teasing… me…" she breathed heavily, enunciating each word. I let out a stream of curse words and moved her away from the wall, and we fumbled around the foyer with our lips still connected. Elisabeth winked and bit her lip. I closed my eyes at her expression and practically dragged her up to my bedroom on the second floor. I slammed the door behind me and stalked towards her.

"Do you like being in control, princess?" I asked in a low voice, and Elisabeth grinned and nodded. I playing with the buttons on her shirt for a moment and she mumbled a faint 'yes', so I ripped it off without worrying about keeping the fabric intact. "You like being in control," I commented, lying her down on the bed and kissing her chest down her stomach until I reached her skirt. "Well, too bad," I smirked evilly, and her hips rose up voluntarily.

"Please, Mercutio, please," she whined, and I tugged off her skirt as well, feeling her soaked underwear with a grin.

"Who made you this wet?" I asked Elisabeth, and her head lolled back. I moved her so that she was sitting up and could see me. "I asked who made you this wet," I reminded her in an angry voice. She moaned.

"You did," she answered, and I pulled her underwear off, too, playing with her hot center. "Oh, fuck, Mercutio, you did," she repeated in a high pitched voice as I continued to touch her. Then I pressed my lips to her spot, and she began practically convulsing.

"Do you like that, princess?" I asked her in between breathed, and she just moaned loudly in response. About a minute later, her warm juices soaked my fingers, and I looked up at her with pride.

"What are we doing?" she asked me, and I just smirked, not answering. "And… why are your clothes still on?" Elisabeth looked confused, even a bit upset. "I want them off," she hissed, and I threw off my shirt without a word. The next to be torn off were my jeans, and my boxers, too. There were no questions, no confusion. We wanted each other, and it was just that simple.

* * *

**Elisabeth Montague**

"You're so fucking hot," I mumbled as Mercutio kissed my neck, both of us naked- my bra had been thrown off somewhere, and I couldn't remember how.

"I've been waiting so long for this," he moaned, and with a small nod, he placed his member at my entrance. I wasn't focused on making my virginity special or anything like that. I wasn't really losing anything, was I? I didn't have much to live for anyways, so I would take any chance I got to feel nice. I didn't want to worry about making things romantic. I didn't want love, not today at least. Love had killed half my family. I didn't care about losing my virginity to someone who loved me.

"Waiting for what?" I asked him softly, and he groaned.

"I want so badly to see you vulnerable, princess," he replied, and I shivered despite the heat, "I want to see you, so innocent, doing such bad things," he smirked.

"I want that too," I moaned in response as he gently pushed himself hallway inside of me. It hurt, but only a little. I felt full, complete, whatever the hell you wanted to call it- I knew I wasn't going to regret this, as crazy as it seemed.

"The things I want to do to you…" Mercutio trailed off, shuddering at the thought. I moaned and he pushed inside a little further. I let out a breathy moan again at this, and he growled. I felt a tug in my stomach, and he growled again, like an animal- but way fucking hotter. "I want you begging me," he laughed softly in my ear, until he was fully inside of me. We waited a moment for me to get used to the feeling. "I want to you belong to me."

"Oh, fuck," I groaned as he trusted inside me again.

"Tell me what you want, Elisabeth," Mercutio invited me, but I just moaned again. "Say it," he hissed, and he refused to thrust again. I whimpered at the loss.

"I want you to fuck me," I growled in response, and he began again, faster and faster, deeper and deeper.

"I'm going," Mercutio started, thrusting so deep I thought I would split it two, "to be," he continued, letting out a moan, "the best fuck you'll ever had," he finished.

"Fuck, Mercutio," I moaned his name and his thrusts became more spastic, frantic, sloppy, "I'm going to-" I started to say, but then he stopped. I whispered and cried out, but he held out, refusing to thrust. It must have taken a shitload of willpower, something Mercutio didn't have a lot of to begin with.

"Beg me," he whispered, "Beg for it like you've never begged before."

"I fucking- I want you- I want you to fuck me," I rambled, my ability to think properly practically non-existent, "I'm yours, Mercutio, make me yours, I need you, I want you," my stream of moans tumbled out one after another. "I want you to fuck me harder than anyone else," I growled.

"You like it rough?" he asked in a small voice. How the fuck could he ask questions? I was going to combust!

"Yes, oh god, yes," I moaned, "Fuck me hard, just fuck me, please!" my voice was weak, but that was enough. He trusted in again, and I whimpered. Finally, we came together, streams of curse words and declarations to God mixing, our sweaty bodies entangling in the most personal way possible as we basked in pure bliss. It took us a few minutes until we spoke again.

"That was," Mercutio started in disbelief, "That was the best fuck I've ever had," he groaned at just the memory. I was still gasping for air, and we locked eyes.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him softly.

"I thinking about this afternoon," he answered genuinely, "And I swore that I would fuck you on every flat surface in this house." I moaned, that same warm feeling running through my veins again. We rested for a few more minutes, and then I kissing Mercutio's neck.

"Are you up for round two, then?" I suggested, and he nodded with the same proud smile he'd been wearing all night- but I wasn't complaining.


End file.
